Um, well, I suppose it’s not.

I’m not sure if last Friday was the official start of Spring Break or if it really starts today, but I don’t suppose it matters since official Spring Break isn’t happening this year. No family trips to the Dells or Disney or Grandma’s. No college trips to Ft. Lauderdale or Cancun to do stupid things with stupid people while parents are paying thousands and thousands of dollars for you to get smart. We can’t even head downtown to The Art Institute and sit in front of La Grande Jatte dreaming of summer and Paris. The museum is closed and the Mayor made all those loitering Parisians go home. So we have two choices: either refer to next week as the-week-formerly-known-as-spring-break or figure out some way to carve a spring break out of our Covid-19 break which pretty much broke the year.

But time has gone so soft that every time I think I’ve dug out a space to break into spring or spring into break, the walls collapse and a formless, boundaryless slide of days oozes back in. Even though I fancy myself a time maven—not a productivity maven or a time management maven—but a connoisseur of time, I’m having trouble keeping my time from getting muddy.

Important aside: I had in mind to compare being a time maven the Jewish tradition of the Matchmaker—someone who is genetically gifted and socially expected to bring people together, to make beneficial matches. When I looked up the word “maven” I discovered it is of Yiddish origin. Language is amazing. Poetry is amazing. Connections are amazing. Now the whole rest of my blog has changed. Since I don’t have time to revise the beginning, and these daily blogs are supposed to be less wrought, we are just going to make it work, people!

It’s still Spring Break—not Spring Fracture. Give yourself a break. Today, invite your calendar to coffee and get to know it a bit. Ask a few questions and introduce yourself. Do it for your mom. She worries about you.

Monday: Everyone hates poor Monday, but all it wants to do is help you start the week off right. What do you want Monday to help you accomplish this week? Let it give your week direction.

Tuesday: Tuesday is a day of action—on Monday we make plans to get started on Tuesday. How does Tuesday get things done? It charges forward; ride the momentum.

Wednesday: Talk, talk, talk, talk, listen. Wednesday isn’t full of woe, it just wants to share your accomplishments, your ideas, your french fries. Let it.

Thursday: Thirsty Thursday, baby Friday, Chris Hemsworth Day (for Thor). Thor’s-day is popular for a reason. If it doesn’t get done today, it probably won’t get done this week. So, if you have plans to get things done with Chris Hemsworth, get to work. It might be a late night (wink, wink).

Friday: This day fancies itself a bit. It holds a mirror up the week and says, Yeah, I did that. It might come across as a bit vain, it is okay to like what you see.

Saturday & Sunday: I generally don’t like to put these two days together—they are so important to our week yet get such a short-shrift in our calendar. (Aside: I hate those planners that give Saturday and Sunday a split box or half the space of each weekday.) But, when we do look at them together, they are the deSSert (Saturday Sunday not strawberry shortcake) of our week. And since we are talking about a delicious weekend inside of an indulgent Spring Break wrapped in a better-be-worth-the-calories-coron-apocalypse, you need to make these days worth it.

In the corona, there is no weekend, except that there is. It’s not Spring Break but it’s still spring break unless you don’t get a break, except, of course, you do. And I penalize my students for short conclusions that just seem to end the work rather than conclude it, but I’m done.